


i just wanted you to watch me dissolve

by bearkwans



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, College, Dialogue Heavy, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Party, Sex Games, Smoking, Smut, Soft Richie Tozier, Swearing, dialogue is the key kids, mike hanlon is the best boy ever, mwah, quote me on that, richie blushes like the angel he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearkwans/pseuds/bearkwans
Summary: He’s stuffed full of Richie Tozier; Richie inside of him, and outside of him, and on top of him, Richie Tozier surrounding him in all of his beautiful glory. Him- Eddie Kaspbrak, all five foot six of him, covered in freckles and weak noodly limbs- in Richie’s bedroom, moaning Richie’s name for the whole world to hear.His evening didn’t begin this way, of course. A few things had to happen for Eddie to get to this place in his life- this world shattering, life saving place in his life.First, Eddie has to pick up Mike’s phone call.[or, college party sex]





	i just wanted you to watch me dissolve

**Author's Note:**

> my first reddie fic and it's smut HAH
> 
> this is based off of a scene from the society go watch it immediately shits fantastic, wonderful, unique, never been done before. 
> 
> the title is from the song dissolve by absofacto
> 
> enjoy!!

Eddie thinks that maybe he saved a nation in his past life. No-  _ nations,  _ plural, with the s, saved thousands and thousands and all of them. He saved the fucking world, that’s what he did. He racked up buckets full of good karma saving the world, and he was finally getting rewarded for his past heroism. 

He never would’ve thought that his evening would be ending  _ this  _ way, and yet here he is. He always hated parties, but if all of them were to end in this way, Eddie considers going to every party ever planned.

He’s stuffed full of Richie Tozier; Richie inside of him, and outside of him, and on top of him, Richie Tozier surrounding him in all of his beautiful glory.  _ Him _ \- Eddie Kaspbrak, all five foot six of him, covered in freckles and weak noodly limbs- in Richie’s bedroom, moaning Richie’s name for the whole world to hear.

Eddie is worried that he’ll blink and wake up and pinch himself and find out everything was just a dream. He blinks and blinks and he’s still there, hands tugging through Richie’s hair, mouth mushed against Richie’s as they moan down each other’s throats.

His evening didn’t begin this way, of course. A few things had to happen for Eddie to get to this place in his life- this world shattering, life saving place in his life.

First, Eddie has to pick up Mike’s phone call.

  
  
  


“There’s a party tonight,” Mike began cautiously, as if he already knew Eddie would be interjecting with his excuses and fake yawns or fake coughs. 

Eddie, being the predictable asshole he was, coughed loudly into the receiver. It hurt his throat a bit, but he was nothing if not an actor, and he played his role with much dedication. “Sorry, Mike, but I don’t think-”

“It’s at Richie Tozier’s place. Listen, we all know about your big fat crush on him, and the only reason I’m inviting you is because this is a chance for you to talk to him! You can finally introduce yourself instead of staring at him from across the cafeteria like some creep.”

Eddie considered his options. He could continue with his act, cough a bit more and insist that he was too sick to show up, or he could admit that he did, in fact, have a big fat crush on Richie Tozier, and was tired of only staring at him. “Fine. But I refuse to approach him; I am a lady, and I wait for love to find me.”

“How 1920s of you,” Mike replied. Eddie could hear the smile in Mike’s voice, loud and clear as if he was watching the facial expression appear on Mike’s face, and decided he made the right decision.

“Anything could happen,” was the last thing Mike said before he hung up, giving Eddie time to get showered and dressed for the party.

Eddie had stared at himself in the mirror, watching in real time as a blush stole its way across his cheeks at the idea of seeing Richie outside of college.  _ Anything could happen. _

Second, Eddie has to wear the black jeans that  _ wore him _ , and that oversized sweater that hangs off of his shoulders in a show of skin that probably would’ve gotten him imprisoned in the 1920s.

 

  
  
“You look great,” Mike said, hanging his head out of the window of his outdated pickup, dark skin sparkling under the setting sun. His smile shone like he had a mouthful of glitter, and Eddie found himself smiling back, despite his lingering nerves. 

“Thank you,” Eddie replied, yanking open the passenger door with only a bit of a struggle. He’d told Mike to buy a new truck  _ years ago.  _ Even before Mike had bought it Eddie was warning him against it, saying the piece of shit metal would become nothing but decoration after a few months. The truck seemed to be throwing up a middle finger to Eddie each time it started up and stayed that way. “I’m a bit nervous about the jeans, seeing as I can barely walk in them they’re so tight, but my dick looks good. Or, like, the bulge. I don’t know, but you can at least tell that I have one. A dick, I mean.”

Mike was laughing at him, his shoulders shaking with the strength of how hilariously stupid Eddie sounded when he was nervous. “Thank you for reminding me that you are with penis, I had almost forgotten.”

Eddie glared with all of his might, sobering Mike up quickly. He was genuinely nervous. He’d been watching Richie Tozier since high school and now, in college, he did the exact same thing fifteen year old Eddie did. Which was do absolutely nothing about his crippling crush. “I’m glad my pain and suffering is funny to you.”

“It is, but also I’m sorry for laughing. I know you’re worried for tonight but you really shouldn’t be. You look fantastic and you smell even better- like some sort of dessert. Edible, Ed. Edible.”

Eddie leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes against the hair that whipped in his face due to the open window. He smiled, though, his heart lifting a bit at his friend’s kind words. He knew he was being overdramatic, as he nearly always was, but he also knew that his previously named “big fat crush” on Richie Tozier was a  _ serious  _ understatement. “Seriously. I feel much better already, and it can only be because of your ever-loving companionship.”

Mike chuckled as he flicked on the radio, some outdated love song playing through the speakers. Mike’s fingers tapped along to the song on his steering wheel, and Eddie admired his ability to love every song he heard (except for  _ anything  _ written by the Chainsmokers. Eddie understood.)

Eddie leaned his head out of the window, his hair tangling on top of his head and curling around his ears. He closed his eyes against the wind, afraid of a bug flying into his eye and making itself a home in his cornea, just letting his face be well acquainted with the cool air. Maybe he understood why dogs were so fond of this movement; it was freeing, in a sense, like the wind was carrying him away to some far away land where nothing was scary and he didn’t feel like he was one bump in the road away from pissing himself in nerves.

And then the seatbelt clicked and stopped letting Eddie move forward, digging into his neck and attempting to choke him into an early death. Oh well. The wind would always keep going forward and Eddie would stay right where he was, strapped into his life by a metaphorical seatbelt and his own two feet.

“You know,” Eddie said, nearly yelling, his voice having to carry over the rushing wind and the music, “what if Richie is straight and all of that shit we heard was just rumors?”

Mike turned down the music, keeping one hand on the wheel and leaving the other one palm up on the bit of seat between them. Eddie took that as an open invitation, twining his fingers with Mike, his hand warm against Eddie’s skin. “Then we know, and you can move on with your life. It’ll fucking suck, and I will be with you every step of the seven stages-of-finding-out-your-man-crush-is-straight. Step zero: actually find out if he is straight or not by wearing sexy tight jeans and being Eddie Kaspbrak, Edible Ed.”

Third was, apparently, to seduce Richie Tozier.

  
  


Eddie  _ hated  _ parties. He was stuffed in a corner, his back pushed completely up against a wall, his hands clasped tightly around the lukewarm drink in his grasp, the condensation on the glass dripping onto the floor in uneven intervals. He’d lost Mike almost immediately upon entering the front door, his best friend being  _ much  _ more social than Eddie had ever been known to be, and Eddie was only a little bit sad as he watched Mike make a small group of people laugh, his hands gesturing wildly with what had to have been the funniest story ever fucking told, his mouth moving quickly, quirked up in the corner. 

“That your boyfriend?” A voice said, and Eddie jumped at the sudden noise right beside his ear. He didn’t have to look beside him to know who the voice belonged to. He’d spent so many years hearing Richie talk from afar that he could probably pick his voice out of half a million other ones.

Eddie nearly laughed at the suggestion of him and Mike being more than friends. Maybe, when they’d first met, had Eddie considered the idea; Mike was funny, and very much attractive, and more importantly he was kind to Eddie, made Eddie feel loved and cared for like any friend should. “No, definitely not,” Eddie finally replied. He glanced at Richie in the corner of his eye, breath nearly turning around in his throat and climbing back down his trachea. Richie’s curly hair was wild, as per usual, falling down around his face in such a messy way that it was so fucking attractive Eddie could barely keep his spine from heaving its way out of his body. “Why, do you have a thing for him?”

Moment of truth, Eddie thought, as he watched Richie’s mouth quirk up in the corner. His lips were chapped and pink, looking well bitten and very much like something Eddie wanted to touch, with his own lips or with  _ other _ parts of his body. “No, not him. I have my eyes on someone else.”

“How unfortunate for them,” Eddie replied, his mouth moving faster than his brain and his stomach clenching tightly at the thought of Richie chasing after some other boy. It was stupid, because Eddie knew the rumors, had heard of Richie fucking around with lots of people, boys and girls. Eddie didn’t care that Richie had sex a lot, he was just painfully jealous that he wasn't one of them.

Richie laughed, his eyes sparkling under the lights. Eddie had a weird urge to reach out and touch Richie’s freckles. “How sweet of you, Eds. Glad I came over here to be insulted.”

“Why did you come over here?” Eddie asked. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Richie said, and fuck, Eddie was finally hearing the roughness of Richie’s voice, how deep it had gotten in the years of knowing him. If there was a list of sexy qualities in a person, Richie would be checking all of the fucking boxes, top to bottom, left to right. “You looked lonely, and your drink is literally committing suicide onto my carpet. Come with me, I’ll take you somewhere where we can talk.”

Eddie’s mouth was watering. Richie was, genuinely, completely and utterly out of his league. He was an entire ten steps above Eddie on the social ladder, probably about a thousand steps above Eddie on the attractive edgy college boy ladder, and whatever other fucking ladders existed. “Okay. Are we going to your room?”

Richie grinned, as if he could read Eddie’s mind,  _ fuck, please no, do not be a mind reader,  _ tilting his head to the side like some excited, overgrown puppy. His glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose and Eddie had the sudden need to push them up. “Don’t get too excited, Eds.”

Eddie stumbled to follow Richie as he began walking away, his drink nearly sloshing from his hand and onto the floor in his haste to catch up to the taller boy. Eddie caught Mike’s eye as he walked, giving his friend the best  _ I am genuinely about to have a fucking heart attack _ face that he could muster. Mike winked in return. “You probably sleep on a wooden plank with the posture that you have,” Eddie replied, hoping that his voice carried over the music.

“You’re feisty,” Richie commented. “I’m not usually surprised by people, so consider yourself lucky.”

Eddie was nearly jogging to keep up, his little legs stretching as tight as they could in his jeans. He was beginning to feel sweat trickle down his spine, the living room beginning to feel overly hot and stuffy with all of the people. Eddie was glad Richie found him when he did; he likely would’ve been forcing Mike to take him home by that time. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.”

“It was one,” Richie said. “You look small and cute and I want to shove you in my pocket, but I think if I tried that you’d probably bite my fingers off.”

Eddie’s face warmed up at the compliment, even though it was condescending, because,  _ yes _ , Eddie was short and had small stubby legs and a slight case of the baby face, but he was also twenty years old, fuck you very much, and he was capable of grabbing something off of the top shelf without being carried up there. But Eddie’s body didn’t care about that, it cared about the fact that this was Richie complimenting him. “Wow, you know me so well already. And you didn’t answer my question.”

Richie stopped at a door, turning to face Eddie, his eyes still sparkling and bright and beautiful, his freckles just as mesmerizing as they’d always been. “Yes. Welcome to my room, please enjoy your stay.”

Richie’s room looked exactly as Eddie pictured it would. There were a few posters hanging on his wall, bands that Eddie had never heard of and a few he knew, and there were clothes strewn on the floor or laying on the bed. There were some pictures of Richie on the wall, Richie with his arm thrown around Bill Denbrough’s shoulder, giant glasses taking up half of his face and a wide smile taking up the other half. “I like it,” Eddie replied honestly, turning to smile at Richie. “Looks a lot better than I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting? Do you think about my bedroom a lot, Eds?” Richie’s grin widened at Eddie’s reddening cheeks, as if he knew of Eddie’s big fat fucking crush on him.

“No,” Eddie replied petulantly.  _ Yes,  _ his brain provided unhelpfully. Of course he did; he thought about Richie’s bedroom and Richie and Richie’s hands and probably his dick more than a few times. “I’ve got better things to do than think about you.”

Richie grasped at his chest as if he’d just been shot in the heart, making a wounded face. “Ouch, Eds. You sure know how to shit on one’s self-confidence. But no worries, I came prepared.” Richie reached into his back pocket, producing a pack of cigarettes.

Eddie wrinkled his nose at the box, shaking his head, “I don’t smoke.”

Richie moved to the window at the other side of his bedroom, tugging it open and letting the cool air flow in with a gust of wind that sent shivers flying down Eddie’s skin. Richie leaned against the wall as he pulled out a cigarette and his lighter, which was hot pink and had pictures of cats on it-  _ where the fuck did Richie find that monstrosity _ \- smiling at Eddie as he lit the cigarette. “I know. I heard your spiel in biology class when we talked about how smoking turns the lungs into burnt, crusty raisins. I think the whole school heard it; you were very passionate.”

Eddie harrumphed as he sat on Richie’s bed. He watched Richie take a deep inhale, his lips wrapped tightly around the cigarette, his eyes half closed and tilted up to the ceiling. “Yes, I am. But it doesn’t seem like you listen at all, so enjoy your raisin lungs by age twenty-six.”

Richie blew out the smoke as close to the window as he could, aware of Eddie sitting a few feet away from him. “Oh no, only five more years. You’re going to have to help me make the best of them, Eddie spaghetti.”

“What do you have in mind?” Eddie asked. He was so attracted to Richie, even with his stupid fucking cigarettes and his stupid fucking lighters with stupid pictures. He looked perfectly tousled, his curls wilder than Eddie had ever seen them, his dark t-shirt rumpled and moving in the wind coming through the window. Eddie wanted to touch him, wanted to touch every part of him from his head to his pale arms to his long legs.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Richie replied, stubbing out his cigarette in a small ashtray sitting on his window sill. It, amazingly, had the same pattern as his lighter, which made Eddie smile when he noticed. “Why don’t we play a game.”

Eddie scooted over on the bed as Richie came to sit, putting enough space between them so that he wouldn’t seem eager, wouldn’t seem like he had been vividly dreaming of sitting on Richie’s lap like some fucking dog, begging for his attention. “This is when you murder me, right?”

Richie laughed, nodding his head to Eddie. “How’d you know?”

“Figures, a hot guy invites me to his room to murder me. Have you never seen any scary movie ever? You need me for a sacrifice, or something, so you seduce me and get me to bend to your every wish.”

Richie’s fingers were tapping on his thigh, and Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They were long and bitten, and Eddie wanted to hold his hands or his thigh, either would suffice. “Is it working? The seducing thing. You make me nervous.”

Eddie blinked up at Richie, looked at Richie’s freckles and his chapped lips and his big glasses and even bigger eyes, and nodded. “It’s been working for years.”

“That’s- that’s, wow. Fantastic news, really great. I think that we should play this game. You’ll like it.”

“What’s the game?” Eddie asked, leaning back on Richie’s bed and getting comfortable against the pillows.

Richie did the same, leaning up against the footboard and stretching his legs out, until his socked feet touched Eddie’s criss crossed legs. His socks had ducks on them, and Eddie couldn’t find it in him to be surprised that Richie was a walking contradiction- his loud personality clashing with his bad boy, stoner-y looks and his fucking  _ duck socks  _ and cat lighter. “I tell you to do something, you do it, you tell me to do something, I do it. Like Simon Says, but not a kid’s game. I’ll start: touch your ears.”

Eddie did as Richie said, touching his ears, feeling the shock cold metal of his earrings against his warm skin. “Touch your toes,” Eddie replied, gesturing with his head towards the duck socks resting against his legs.

Richie reached down to touch his toes, his fingers brushing against Eddie’s pants as he did. Eddie felt like he would combust if Richie touched him again. Richie’s eyes moved along Eddie’s face, down to his lips and back up to his eyes again. He must’ve liked what he saw because his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes moving back down to Eddie’s lips. “I could count all the freckles on your face and never get bored. Touch your knees.”

Eddie’s face warmed at the comment, his hands slipping down to his knees, his neck warm and his cheeks filling with red paint. Eddie was embarrassed at how easily Richie could get him riled up. They’d only been in there for twenty minutes and Eddie was about four seconds away from jumping Richie’s bones. “Well I’ve counted the ones on yours and I’m bored out of my mind.”  _ Another lie,  _ Eddie’s mind reminded him. He thought about all of the times he’d sneaked glances at Richie during biology class, always finding new things to like about Richie. “Touch your hair.”

Richie’s fingers carded through his hair, curls sticking out between his fingers. “Touch your chest.”

Eddie did, his fingers brushing up against his nipples, making him shudder. He hated the teasing, hated that he felt like he might explode in his own pants like some teenager. Eddie leaned forward, taking one hand off of his chest to push his hair behind his ear. “Touch yourself,” Eddie said, his voice small. No going back now.

“Where?” Richie asked, although he looked as if he already knew the answer to that question.

Eddie looked pointedly at Richie’s crotch. He wanted to say:  _ touch your dick and then fuck me into next Tuesday,  _ but he figured that the slow approach was a better idea, not just because they’d never really had a conversation before, but also because Eddie was scared that if they went too fast he’d back out.

Richie grinned as he unbuckled his belt, the sound of metal on metal almost too loud in the room. The music still pounded against the walls, the voices of people drowned out but still there- and yet, Eddie could barely focus on anything aside from his own harsh breaths and Richie’s husky voice. Richie slipped his hand into his pants, moaning softly and driving Eddie crazy. “Touch your nipples.”

Eddie reached underneath his shirt, the cold air blowing through the still-open window making him shiver, his fingers rubbing against his nipples slowly, teasingly. “Take off your shirt.”

“Getting adventurous, aren’t we, spaghetti man?” Richie asked, tugging off his shirt. His chest was defined but not muscular, and he had a trail of hair leading down into his briefs, Eddie feeling mouth-wateringly turned on. “Touch yourself.”

Eddie pushed out a soft sound, a cross between a moan and a sigh, and slid his hands out from under his shirt. He reached for the button of his jeans, trying to tug them down enough to where he could reach into his boxers. “Fuck, these jeans are too tight.”

Richie laughed, using his free hand to gesture at Eddie. “Stand up and try that way.”

“Don’t lie, you just want to stare at my ass,” Eddie said, but he did as Richie suggested, standing from the bed cautiously. His legs felt like jello, his body tired from having to keep up with Richie. He still felt desire coursing through him, burning through his veins like fire.

Richie’s hand was still moving in his pants lazily, his eyes following Eddie’s movements. “Oh, you’re absolutely right I do. You look fucking fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Eddie said shyly. He shimmied out of his jeans, letting them pool on the floor as he crawled back onto the bed. Richie’s legs were spread but his feet still brushed up against Eddie’s legs as he moved back to his spot in the pillows. Eddie’s eyes zeroed in on Richie’s hand in his pants, shoving his own into his boxers. His dick was half-hard, warm and solid in his hand. He moaned softly as he spread his precum onto his hand, moving down his shaft.

“What’s my next move?” Richie asked, his eyes like a physical touch on Eddie’s skin as he stared openly.

Eddie stopped moving his hand, taking a moment to think. “How far do you want to go tonight?”

Redness stole its way into Richie’s cheeks, and Eddie couldn’t believe his eyes. Richie Tozier was  _ blushing _ , his freckles standing out harshly against his reddening skin, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “I- I haven’t thought that far,” Richie replied. “But I think, if the opportunity arose, I’d like to fuck you. I’d really like it.”

Eddie’s body got impossibly warmer at Richie’s words. His long sleeved shirt was beginning to feel too hot for him, sweat sticking onto his skin despite the open window. “Then your next move is to fuck me,” Eddie replied, feeling braver than he ever had.

Richie nodded, once and then twice, before crawling up the bed and tucking his legs outside of Eddie’s, straddling his thighs. He bent down, his mouth barely an inch away from Eddie’s, the two of them sharing breaths between them. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Eddie replied, slightly breathless, very turned on. His hands reached up to wrap around Richie’s bare waist, Richie’s skin so soft and so warm and  _ fuck _ this was really happening. Richie’s mouth brushed against Eddie’s, and Eddie could feel the indentions on Richie’s lip where he’d been biting it. His lips weren’t soft but they were warm and they moved easily against Eddie’s.

Richie grinded against him, the fabric of his jeans rough against Eddie’s skin, scraping against his hips. He liked how Richie felt above him, liked Richie moaning into his mouth, liked Richie clinging to his sides like he was scared Eddie would slip out of his grasp.

Eddie bucked up against Richie, a moan falling from his lips, his fingernails digging into the skin of Richie’s back. Eddie was sure that this felt so good because it was Richie against him, Richie breathing harshly above him, Richie’s smell cigarettes and cologne all around him. Eddie was probably one well-placed thrust away from cumming in his pants like a teenager. “Fuck me, Rich. I want to cum with you inside of me.”

Richie moaned into Eddie’s neck, pulling away to look at Eddie carefully in the eyes. Richie’s face was red, his freckles bright, his eyes sparkling and dark and full of lust, his lips were dark and slick with spit. “You’re gonna kill me with that mouth of yours.”

“It’s payback for your stupid ass talking all the time,” Eddie replied, smiling gently at Richie and running a hand down his spine. Eddie’s hand stopped at the edge of Richie’s jeans, fingers touching along the sensitive skin there, teasing at the fabric. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

Richie reached into his bedside table, grabbing out the lube and a condom, setting them on the mattress beside Eddie’s head. “I really hope I don’t disappoint. I’ve been thinking about your cute ass since freshman year of college when I saw you working out in the gym in those life-changing red shorts. Oh, um… don’t laugh at my dick.”

Eddie blinked up at Richie, staring at him as if he’d just started speaking a different language. “I’m not gonna laugh- why would I laugh at your dick? Is there something wrong with it?”

Richie shook his head, looking completely serious as he looked down at Eddie, his mouth in a straight line. “No. It’s just fucking  _ massive. _ ”

Eddie snorted, which was very attractive of him, he bet, smiling at the proud look on Richie’s face at making Eddie laugh. “Nice, very good one. Now take off your pants.”

Richie stood up and tugged off his jeans and boxers, standing stark naked in front of Eddie in all of his beautiful Richie Tozier glory. His skin was pale white and his legs were long and beautiful. When they were younger he was all limbs, gangly and awkward, but now he stood with a well-worn confidence that made him mind-numbingly attractive. “Your turn,” Richie said, gesturing towards Eddie’s sweater and boxers that still hugged his skin.

Eddie shimmied out of his boxers first, throwing them down on the floor by his jeans, and then he sat up quickly, yanking off his shirt and tossing it down as well. They were both naked, taking each other in with hungry eyes. Eddie couldn’t stop staring at the hair on Richie’s stomach, the color of his legs, the mess of pubic hair surrounding his dick.

“You’re a wet dream,” Eddie said, looking up at Richie’s eyes. “An actual, real life wet dream, and you’re standing all the way over there.”

Richie grinned as he crawled back onto the bed, this time kneeling between Eddie’s legs, spreading them wide. He pressed a kiss against the inside of Eddie’s tan thigh, his lips chapped and warm. Eddie whined childishly when Richie moved away, reaching over Eddie to grab the bottle of lube.

He squirted some lube on his fingers, warming it up in his hand before moving his hand between Eddie’s legs. “Are you sure you want this?” Richie asked, still not touching Eddie.

Eddie nodded, probably too eagerly, his tongue moving to wet his dry lips before he spoke. “Yes. I want it so bad- want you so bad.”

Richie kissed Eddie once more before letting his fingers move down to circle around Eddie’s hole, his touch gentle and careful, like he was afraid to break Eddie in half. Eddie wanted to ask if this was Richie’s first time with another boy, if he was scared that Eddie’s asshole would fall off if he went too fast, but Richie was pushing his pointer finger into Eddie, stealing all of the words and air straight from Eddie’s throat.

He pumped his finger into Eddie, his finger longer than Eddie’s and reaching places Eddie could only find with a dildo. He rubbed against Eddie’s walls, pressing into the tight heat and making Eddie see stars. Richie moved his face to Eddie’s stretch of pale neck, mouth sucking onto his skin, nibbling at the marks and then soothing the burn with his tongue. He left a hickey on Eddie’s collar bone, and another right on his adam’s apple.

Richie added a second finger slowly, careful that he didn’t go too fast and hurt Eddie, his free hand rubbing up and down Eddie’s stomach gently. Once Eddie began moaning again, Richie moved faster, his fingers scissoring Eddie open and pushing deep into him, brushing up against Eddie’s prostate.

“ _ Richie,”  _ Eddie whined, his voice high and breathless and needy, his free leg moving to press against Richie’s thigh, wanting more contact with him. “Again, Richie. Please Richie, feels so good.”

Richie chuckled into the skin of Eddie’s neck, leaving a small kiss there, pulling away and smiling at Eddie. Richie’s eyes were dark, nearly black with lust, the bedroom lights shining brightly against him. “You talk so much. Can’t keep those lips from moving, baby, how much do you think they’d move with my dick in your mouth?”

Eddie moaned at Richie’s words, his dick twitching against his stomach. He reached up to card his fingers through Richie’s mop of curls, pulling Richie’s face down to his mouth, messily meeting their lips, the kiss wet and dirty, Eddie’s teeth tugging at Richie’s bottom lip and Richie’s tongue brushing against Eddie’s.

“Add another,” Eddie said, his voice wrecked, his words practically a moan. He tugged on Richie’s hair, his fingers clenching everytime his asshole did. Eddie had fingered himself more times than he could count, didn’t like masturbating without it, but his fingers were so short and stubby. Richie’s were long and thin, pressing against Eddie’s prostate over and over again, rubbing against the spot deep inside of Eddie, making Eddie’s body whirl with want.

Richie did as told, slowly, carefully, his eyes watching Eddie for any signs of discomfort. Eddie urged him to go faster, his toes curling against the sheets, his fingers pulling against Richie’s hair.

Richie pumped his fingers, stretching Eddie open wide, the lube against their skin making obscene noises that just made everything hotter, made Eddie’s skin burn like a fucking fire tearing through the woods. His skin was made of matches, just a whole load of them stacked one upon the other, and his veins were full of gasoline. Richie was the spark that caught him on fire.

“I’m ready,” Eddie mumbled against Richie’s lips, nuzzling his nose against Richie’s with a lazy grin. He felt dirty and sweaty and soft, his body tired with the dizzying want swirling through every nerve ending to ever exist in the human body. “Fuck me, Richie.”

“God, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Richie said, taking his fingers out of Eddie and grabbing the condom from the bed.

Eddie watched Richie roll the condom on, his eyes caught on the red tip of his dick, the slit leaking precum and glistening under the light. “I’m not begging yet,” Eddie replied. “I don’t think I need to beg yet, you’re going to fuck me anyways.”

Richie smeared the excess lube left on his hand onto his dick, smiling down at Eddie. “You’re absolutely right. And don’t think I didn’t notice that yet.”

He scooted forward, spreading Eddie’s legs and throwing one onto his shoulder, bending Eddie almost completely in half. He pressed into Eddie slowly, kissing Eddie as he did, his mouth feeling so so soft against Eddie’s.

“Feel okay?” Richie asked, his words sweet and caring.

Eddie nodded, pulling Richie down to kiss him again. “Yes,” he said when Richie pulled away. He yanked at Richie’s curls, drawing a moan from the other, his voice loud- louder than Eddie’s, louder than the music and the people and their breathing. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”

Richie grinned, his teeth shining and his eyes bright, excited. Eddie couldn’t stop staring at Richie’s lips, at his freckles, at every little mark that made up the beauty of his face. He had a little scar above his eyebrow, had a freckle on the corner of his lip, had a little crack in the very top corner of his stupid giant glasses.  _ How the fuck did I get here?  _ Eddie asked himself.  _ Me, having sex with Richie Tozier. This is some tv show shit, that’s what this is. _

Richie moved his hips quickly, snapping into Eddie deeply and roughly, their skin making a harsh slapping sound every time they met. It was pornographic, which turned Eddie on even more. Him and Richie, fucking for a camera, people watching.

Eddie moaned into Richie’s mouth, his fingers clenching in his hair tightly. He reached a hand down to grab his dick, feeling his stomach burn with the need to cum, his eyes clenched shut. Richie’s dick pressed against his prostate with every thrust, sending tingles up Eddie’s spine.

Eddie came first, all over his hand and his stomach, clenching tight around Richie and wrapping his free leg around the back of Richie’s thighs, pulling Richie as deep in him as he could. Richie came quickly after, thrusting shallowly into Eddie as he moaned loudly, his voice desperate and beautiful.

Richie leaned against Eddie, his body pressing Eddie down into the mattress, a full body sigh making its way out of his body. “I am, genuinely, in awe of you.”

Eddie giggled, actually giggled, his body loose and happy. He already felt sleepy, his eyes blinking slowly up at Richie as he pulled out and tied up the used condom. He left the bed for a minute, returning with a little towel and wiping the cum off of Eddie’s stomach. “Thank you,” Eddie replied. “So… is this when you ask me to leave?”

Richie threw the rag on the ground, crawling into bed beside Eddie. “Absolutely not. Unless you wanna?”

“I do- I want to stay, I mean. Not I do like I want to leave. I’m looking forward to post-sex cuddling,” Eddie replied. He carded his fingers into Richie’s hair, his chest pressed firmly against Richie’s back. He played with Richie’s curls gently, scraping his nails against Richie’s scalp, almost like an apology for yanking on his hair like his life depended on it.

Richie grabbed the blanket and pulled it over the both of them. “Good. I need to go check on the party but I don’t want to move. You’re so soft and warm, and I hate all of those fucking idiots.”

“Then why’d you have the party?” Eddie asked, nuzzling against Richie.

Richie sighed, shaking his head against the pillow. “It’s embarrassing, but I was hoping that one Eddie Kaspbrak would show up. I know how much you hate parties, but I also know that your best friend happens to go to every party that I’m at, so I was wishing he would force you to come.”

Eddie laughed. It was fucking crazy to think that all the while he’d been pining over Richie, hoping for a glance or a smile or just a breath in his direction, Richie had been doing a bit of the same stuff. “Aren’t you glad he did. He wouldn’t have let me stay home; all of my friends are tired of me talking about you and not talking  _ to  _ you.”

“Maybe we should solve the problem,” Richie replied, the smile clear in his voice.

“I thought that’s what we were just doing,” Eddie said. He ran his fingers along the freckled skin of Richie’s arm, his skin soft and milky.

Richie chuckled, his shoulders shaking against Eddie’s chest. He didn’t say anything else, and the room was quiet, save for the party that was still in full swing outside of the room. If Eddie strained his ears he could’ve sworn he heard the cha cha slide playing.

_ This is your chance _ , Eddie told himself.  _ Anything can happen. _ He took a deep breath, feeling nervous and excited and so fucking happy all at once. “I think I want to be your boyfriend. Like, if you’ll have me, of course.”

Richie turned around to face Eddie, smiling brightly at him as soon as their eyes met. Richie’s hair was all over the place, spilling onto the pillow and sticking out around his head and falling into his eyes. Eddie was so fucked if he was going to have to wake up to that every day. He’d never fucking get out of bed. “You  _ think _ ? Eddie Spaghetti, you just saw my orgasm face and my man bits, I’m gonna need something more sure than that.”

Eddie laughed, smiling back at Richie, his fingers twirling in the sheets, his legs brushing against Richie’s. Richie was warm against him, and Eddie was beginning to feel sleepy. “Fine. I want to date you. I think you’re funny and sweet and your orgasm face and man bits are highly appealing to me.”

Richie pumped his air in the air like he was in the Breakfast Club, his mouth pulled up in a big smile, all of his teeth on display. His glasses were pushed up funny on his face because he was smushed against the pillow, and Eddie carefully pulled Richie’s glasses off his face, setting them down on the nightstand. “Now you’re all fuzzy. I miss you already, spaghetti. Hey, that rhymed. Watch out, your neighborhood rapper is out on the prowl tonight.”

And there it was: the inevitable trashmouth Richie Tozier, back in business so soon. Eddie felt warmer than he ever had. “Everyone say goodbye to your ears.”

There was a knock on the door before Richie could reply, and Richie smiled down at Eddie, as if he’d done this many times before, had hid from his own parties with short boys naked in his bed. Richie pretended to snore, loudly, his eyes still wide open and full of mirth and happiness. Eddie smiled back before mimicking Richie, snoring louder than he ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> blushing richie tozier....... *italian chef kiss*
> 
> listen,. i wrote the last part of this fic listening to kurtis connor's podcast so if it's stupid it's because of him i'm serious
> 
> kudos and comments are welcome!! (i need to be validated thank u in advance <3)
> 
> thank you for reading  
> love, tori


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